Catch Her if You Can
by The Immaterial Girl
Summary: "Just as a precaution," he'd explained with something bordering on arrogant smugness. "You understand." Yes, she understood so expertly that she wanted to bury her knee in his crotch. What was so alluring about a woman on the loose? Nothing, until the metal clinked on her wrists. ***REWRITTEN****
1. Chapter One

**Author's Notes**  
_After much deliberation, I've decided to rewrite this story into more of a story format than a script/play format.  
Originally, I'd had reservations about doing that because I wanted to tell the story quickly, not to  
mention I am not comfortable within the time frame, but I am willing to try this out and see where it goes._

_This chapter combines the first two scenes, and the next chapter will combine the following  
two of the original act one. The jail scene is extended a bit and I cut the flashback for now._

_I hope you all enjoy!_

**Disclaimer**  
_I do not own any POTC characters or registered trademarks._

* * *

**I **

Nighttime descended upon Fort Charles and with it came the tell-tale signs of the return of the Royal Navy. The citizens of Port Royal stirred with the arrival of the Dauntless, curious and stimulated with the idea of an adventurous tale. And what had the officers so stone-faced but their eyes jumping with excitement?

Quiet reigned at Fort Charles until a prisoner appeared, led by a small group of Royal Navy officers. The wild-haired prisoner walked head-down, not looking anyone in the face. In the simplest of opinions, the prisoner's current position did not call for a celebration of her part.

"Quiet now, aren't you pirate?" taunted the first officer. "Don't have your diamond to back you up!"

"Nothing to declare?" sneered the second.

The third officer could not resist a jab of his own: "You know what they say: "Dead men tell no tales!"

The captured, stoic to a fault, remained silent, jaw clenching, as the officers laughed amongst one another. From behind the officers, a tall, trim figure appeared out of the dewy darkness with a face, even when set in disapproving lines, that was quite compelling.

"Gentlemen," Commodore James Norrington began in a tone that nearly had the officers' bowels turning into water, "it would behoove you not to badger the prisoner in such a sophomoric manner. To the cells, in _silence_. And make sure the safeguards are secure." He paused for effect, then added rather meaningfully, "We have some rather _infamous_ guests in our presence until the morning. I would rather like to keep it that way."

Chastised, the officers complied, smiles and leers disappearing. Norrington watched them until darkness shrouded them, trying to decide among the correct sentiment. Before he had a chance to give it much thought, a presence hovered at his elbow. There was something about Lord Cutler Beckett that he sensed immediately without sight or words.

"Ah...there you are." Norrington turned to find Beckett immaculately coiffed, with not a thread on his clothes or hair on his wig out of place. "Just wondering where you had gone off to. I assume arrangements are being made to ensure our guests do not find their way out of our company?"

Norrington gave a short nod. "Iron-clad, Your Grace."

The glee and relief in Beckett's eyes were unmistakable. "Splendid. I cannot tell you how relieved I am that this troublesome predicament is soon to find its end." Norrington uttered nothing. "You upheld your part of the bargain, so shall I. After our guests are dispatched tomorrow, you shall receive your promotion." Norrington nodded again, still silent. "Great work, Commodore. Or should I say...Admiral?" Beckett let that last word hang in the air for a moment like a glossy coin before he stepped closer and spoke in a softer, more meaningful tone. **"**Know from now on you have an ally in Lord Cutler Beckett. Not very many men can attest to that."

"Thank you, Your Grace," Norrington responded. "Now if you would excuse me, I need to finish my report on the...incident."

"Ah yes. Well, I do not want to delay you in your duties." Beckett made a dismissive gesture. His face indicated distraction was closing in. Norrington could make an educated guess on where his attention had fled. "Continue on. I have some matters of my own to see to."

Norrington excused himself to his office. On the way through the winding dimness, he warned his officers not to bother him unless a pressing matter arose.

In the depths of his office, Norrington lowered himself to the chair behind his desk and let out a sigh. A jingle alerted him to the piece of jewelry he'd stashed in his pocket during the clamor of capture. The gold was cloudy from frequent handling but it still winked when it caught the lamplight. Curious, Norrington opened the locket to find a miniature of four dark-haired girls. On the back an inscription was scrawled in majestic script. _So you know what you stand for. Love, Mama._

Inexplicably pained, he closed it and placed it in the top drawer of his desk.

Forcing himself to stay on task, Norrington fished out a blank piece of paper on which to write his report. So engrossed was he that when the door opened and closed abruptly he did not bother to look up.

Norrington's voice was an annoyed snap of a whip. "I believe my orders were quite clear—" As his eyes caught the dainty shoes on his wooden floor, his head rose slowly as the ire bled itself from his countenance.

A woman dressed in a dark cloak over a dirty, tattered gown stood with her back against the door. Her breaths came out heavily, and the skin under the dark cloth was pale in stark contrast.

"Miss Claudia?" Norrington managed in question. The woman addressed as Claudia lowered the hood of her cloak. Her long, dark hair shone dully in the lamplight, and her aqua eyes were fraught with distress. It appeared she had not changed since the _Dauntless_ had docked. "Shouldn't you be with Lord Beckett? It's dangerous for you to be about all alone."

"I found myself wanting to pay my last respects to the prisoner," Claudia explained softly. Grief took over her features as her lip began to tremble. "In all my years...waiting...watching...I didn't think it would come to this..."

Norrington placed his quill pen down on the wood and rose. Claudia stared disconsolately at her hands as he paused in front of her.

"The actions that were taken were taken without honor. You cannot believe that those misdeeds would have never gone unpunished."

Claudia looked up sharply, indignation flashing in her eyes around the grief. "Honor?" she countered. "By whose measure, Commodore? The person that you are condemning to death was pushed into the life that you are so casually willing to end. Do you mean to tell me that one can be punished for something out of their control?"

"I believe in free will, Miss Claudia. A man can choose the path he follows—and the consequences that come with it."

Claudia's eyebrow quirked insolently. "And a woman?"

Silence. Unable to hold Claudia's piercing gaze, Norrington stepped away from her. She was the living embodiment of the small voice inside of him that had he had been squelching ever since he had laid eyes on the person who had given Lord Beckett and the Royal Navy such chase. It was hard to look at her without wavering.

Norrington answered in a low, gravelly tone, "A woman is supposed to be under the protection of a man so that she can choose the right one."

Claudia grabbed Norrington's arm and wheeled him around to face her. She gazed at him for a long time before releasing him. Realization had lighted her eyes. "Finally got what you wanted, didn't you Commodore?" Claudia inquired, her ironic tone making him feel reprehensible.

_Dammit. _Norrington swallowed hard. "That...person was breaking the law set forth by the authority of the Crown. Such offense should result in imprisonment—or worse." Finally he laid eyes on the furious figure of Claudia Vargas. "I am merely upholding the law, Miss Thomas, as I have been entrusted to do. If you find yourself seeking retribution for my actions, then you too will someday suffer the same fate."

Her chuckle was so acrid it would have burned through granite. "Sad it is that a man so bright would choose to be so dense and small-minded." She tilted her head thoughtfully. "Or is it ambition that drives you not to care about sparing the life of an innocent person?"

Finally anger broke free from its bounds. "That person was never innocent and you know it."

Claudia shook her head. "If you honestly believe that, Commodore, then you are a horrible judge of character."

"Oh please!" Norrington spat. "Spare me a lecture on what seems to be your idealistic view of what is nothing more than a degenerate pirate on whom you should think of no further. Someone who commits a crime should be punished. It is as simple as that."

"So since you are so versed in the ways of the law, please Commodore, enlighten me. What exactly is the crime here?"

Norrington pursed his lips together to stop himself from saying something ugly and thoughtless. Claudia tested his sense of right and wrong; a part of him wished he had the opportunity to consider what she was saying. The other part wanted to see the situation concluded so that it could be put away.

Before he could form a syllable, the door opened. A smartly dressed dark-haired man entered, and when his gaze rested on Claudia, malice lighted his eyes. Shock leaped into Claudia's face before she straightened her spine and schooled her features to blankness. When dealing with Ian Mercer, fear proved to be a disadvantage.

"It seems I found you, Miss Claudia. If I didn't know any better I'd say you were trying to hide from me." He paused to cluck his tongue like a father would at an errant daughter. "Now that wouldn't be very smart of you."

Claudia mustered up some poise from underneath her bedraggled appearance and addressed Mercer as if his happening by was part of her plan—and had not shaken her in the slightest. "I had some business with Commodore Norrington—and your timing is impeccable as we have just concluded it."

Mercer peered at her suspiciously. He would love the slightest excuse to hurt her. She knew it. "And what sort of business—?"

Claudia waved her hand in a dismissive gesture, very similar to the one Beckett had made a short time before. "Nothing that should concern you, sir." She strode past Mercer to the door and turned impatiently. "Shall we to Lord Beckett now? I am sure he is the reason for your ardent pursuit of me and he will be relieved to know I am still in good health." She gazed pointedly at Norrington, who had been quite throughout the exchange. "Goodbye, Commodore. I am sure your hard work on my behalf is appreciated."

With that, Claudia opened the door and walked out, and Mercer gave him one leery glare before following behind. Churned up more than he'd like to admit, Norrington walked behind his desk. His eyes caught sight of the death warrants issued during his voyage. One promised death for Captain Jack Sparrow, and the other—

Norrington turned the death warrant over, not able to look at it without heaviness settling in the pit of his stomach. "I am not doing the wrong thing." He assured himself aloud. "This is the absolute _just_ thing to do..."

* * *

Meanwhile, at the cells at Fort Charles, a pair of Royal Navy guards marched up and down the cobblestone, armed and keeping watch on the two prisoners. In the first cell, the prisoner occupying the cell leaned on the wall with his hat tilted downward. He appeared to be dozing. In the second cell, the other prisoner fumed on the floor.

"Bloody buggering hell!" the second prisoner muttered, kicking at a pebble.

The first prisoner cracked open an eye. "Could ya keep it down, mate?" he complained. "I'm tryin ta sleep here."

The second prisoner muttered on despite the circumstances. "My blessed mum is turning over in her grave at this very instant with the knowledge that her eldest was bested by those bloody charlatans!" She stood impatiently. "I need to get out of here. I cannot let this charade continue. You can sleep over there if you like."

The first prisoner snorted. "Good luck wit that, mate—'specially wit the pride o' the Royal Navy in our humble presence. I'd love to see what sort of voodoo magic trick yeh've got hidden in ye trousers to get us out of this...incarceration."

At that instant, the guards marched by, guns on their shoulders. The first prisoner sat up with a thought.

"Come to think of it," started the first prisoner, "maybe I should inspect said magic. See if it's workin' properly."

The second prisoner rolled her eyes. "You failed the first nine_teen _times, Sparrow," she reminded him pointedly. "You attempting to get into my trousers isn't going to work this time."

Sparrow smiled mischievously. "Ye can't deny ye enjoyed me tryin, eh luv?"

"Apparently no amount of magic rubbed off on you." Her aqua gaze was filled with wry humor.

Remembering the numerous failures staunched his mirth "So funny, luv, I forgot to chuckle." The second prisoner slumped back onto the ground. "Not that it's a chuckling sort of situation, seeing as we're about to die in the morning." She sighed as despair overtook her. She was usually strong, but this time..."Jack?"

Sparrow groaned as if she'd asked to marry him and clap him in irons of matrimony. "Bugger...Jay, don' get all teary on me now. Ye proved to be a great captain an' pirate durin' our adventure, an' for that ye 'ave me respect. Even if ye are o' the...female persuasion."

"And what in the bloody buggering hell is that supposed to mean?" she demanded, eyes flashing with indignation. "There were would be more of my kind if you gentlemen you allow us to move about, don't ya think?"

Sparrow held up his hands in a gesture of surrender. "Oh luv—you must 'ave me confused wit one o' them stuffy blokes out there wit the redcoats. I don' care what ye does luv as long as the rum isn't gone when yeh've finished yer business. Yeh've always been good about that, so we're square. Savvy?"

She raised an eyebrow. "Considering the outcome of the current, I'd say we're about rectangular."

Sparrow shifted so that he neared the bars separating him and the dark-haired woman opposite. She blinked at him. "Tis not the time ta be fallin' on yer sword, love."

She frowned, not yet willing to let it go. "I did get you into this, Jack."

"I'm the captain of my own person I'll 'ave ya remember. And if I recall the drunken squalor and beauteousness of the context, there was a bit of hagglin', but my esteemed presence was decided only by myself." He leaned in closer. "However, considerin' the downturn of our luck, If ya wanted ta make it up, I can think of somethin'..."

A couple of seconds passed. She leaned in as well, the ends of her mouth curving up in an ironic smile. "I don't care if we're locked up and waiting to die. You're off your post if you think you can seduce me and take my diamond."

Sparrow chuckled. "I've got a feelin' that yer diamond's already been taken, love." That earned a jab through the bars. The guards stomped past again as Sparrow leaped back, and she glared at him before slumping against the wall. They behaved themselves until the guards were out of sight.

Sparrow watched her for a moment before speaking. Her quiet contemplation indicated she was most likely thinking less about her escape—and more about her impending demise. "Jay?" She looked up, eyes cloudy with preoccupation. "Ya scare me when ye're quiet."

She managed a smile. "Are you willing to pretend to be a clergyman and listen to me confess my sins? As they are legion, according to the Crown." She turned to look at him. The gravity in her eyes made him feel as if he couldn't escape. As if...the end had truly descended. He had a low-grade urge for liquor. "If I don't get out of here, and somehow you do, please watch over them."

Sparrow winced. "Jay—"

"No, Jack," she pressed. "Promise me." She crawled to the bars and reached out for him. "You know I wouldn't ask this of you unless things were truly dire..."

Reluctantly, he clasped her hand with his own—a gesture of acquiescence. He did not say it aloud.


	2. Chapter Two

**Author's Note**  
_I am pretty sure I hurried through this, and I apologize. Hopefully this is as good as the original.  
I cut out the last two lines because they seemed superfluous when I was redoing._

**Disclaimer**

_I do not claim ownership of any characters or trademarks of POTC. Disney owns them  
and you will not see me contest..._

* * *

II

At the Swann household, quiet too reigned; the safe return of the Governor's daughter and quelled their excitement until morning. In the still of her private space, Elizabeth Swann sat on the edge of her bed, nursing a sprained wrist from the adventure. She rubbed it, wincing.

_What a bloody mess this is, _she mused. She thought grimly of the woman she had befriended three months previous and wondered if she would ever be forgiven.

Governor Weatherby Swann, not yet clad in bedclothes, entered the room much to his daughter's surprise and broke her from her disconsolate thoughts. Elizabeth snapped to attention, startled. "Father. I thought you were in bed!"

The Governor gazed at Elizabeth for a moment before speaking. "I..." He shook his head and started over. "I have been told that Commodore Norrington has apprehended Miss Claudia's captors. And he has advised me that he has you to thank for it."

The sting of guilt was unmistakable. Elizabeth shifted uncomfortably. "I..."

"I hope," the Governor continued, "when you stole away from here during the night without notice, that your aim was to assist in protecting Miss Claudia's honor." He added meaningfully, "She is to be Lord Beckett's wife soon, and that will put her in the position of being the wife of a very influential man. He would not make a good enemy."

She had to tread carefully. Awareness of that fact deepened her guilt—but in a slightly different aspect than before. "Claudia has become a dear friend, and I do not wish to see anything happen to her that she doesn't deserve. Not to mention, I would never want to risk offending someone who...means so much to her."

The Governor nodded, relieved that his daughter seemed to be showing sense. "I knew you would understand." He leaned in and hugged her. "I am so pleased to have you home." Releasing Elizabeth he stood. "I'll have the doctor look at your wrist in the morning. Good night, Elizabeth."

Elizabeth gave a short nod. "Good night, Father."

Elizabeth watched tiredly as her father left. Alone again, she sighed heavily, thinking of their conversation. One thing stood out to her more than anything else: her father was genuinely afraid of Cutler Beckett. Intellectually she could understand her father's fear. Idealistically, she wished he would rise up and fight it. _You have to learn to choose your battles wisely,_ her father warned her more than once. _Is that what Claudia thought?_ she wondered. _That this was a battle worth fighting?_

A few minutes later, Elizabeth heard a knock against her window. Frowning, she drifted to her window and peered outward. She gasped when she realized who it was.

"Will!" She frowned at the person following him. "Is that...Claudia's maid?"

Elizabeth watched with growing joy and affection as William Turner climbed up to her balcony...along with a dark-skinned young woman. Once he stood on solid ground, Will kissed Elizabeth passionately.

The dark-skinned young woman raised an eyebrow. "Didn't y'all just see each other like, say...thirty minutes ago?" Nicollette Smith demanded in her inexplicable accent. Uncomfortable and a mite impatient, she crossed arms over chest. "Damn..."

Will cleared his throat, embarrassed. Elizabeth, on the other hand, felt no shame in the display. "You'll understand when you're in love, Nic." Elizabeth's eyes twinkled, then turned serious. "How did you get away from Beckett's lap dog?"

Nicollette smirked and raised a shoulder. "Just a bit of...subterfuge that involved a rag doll...and an ice pick."

Knowing her there was no telling what _that_ meant exactly. "And boy's clothing apparently," Elizabeth noted. Nicollette was dressed in loose brown trousers that were rolled up at the hem to fit her petite frame. "I assume that this visit is not entirely for pleasure."

"As much as I wish we had good news to bring," Will started, "things have turned altogether dismal."

Elizabeth blinked. "Bad news?"

"The Captains are currently in the company of your old flame and the Royal Navy." Nicollette shared a look with Will. "Word on the street is, they hang...at dawn."

Elizabeth went pale with the statement. "Jack! And Jess! They're being put to death?" She pressed her full lips together as she tried to stop them from trembling. "Oh my God..."

Will added, "And, to make things worse, the wedding ceremony is still on."

Surprised at the comment, Elizabeth raised an eyebrow. "Isn't that supposed to be good news?"

"She meant Claudia's wedding to Lord Oscar Meyer the Wiener of the East India Trading Company," Nicollette clarified, rolling her eyes to the sky. "Lord..."

Will peered at Nicollette confusedly, not understanding the reference. "Who?"

"Forgive us for being a bit single-minded, Nicollette, in the face of our own upcoming nuptials," Elizabeth remarked idly. She flopped down on her bed, her eyes cloudy with sorrow. "I am not quite sure how to feel. A world without Captain Jack Sparrow... I can't quite imagine it..." She rubbed her arms as a chill went through her. As much as Jack annoyed her at times, to see him dead...

"Who said we have to imagine it at all?"

It took a few beats, but the meaning of Will's words eventually dawned on Elizabeth. Wide-eyed, Elizabeth stared at Will and Nicollette. Eyes wide, Elizabeth inquired, "You aren't serious, are you?"

This time Nicollette spoke. "Look, would we risk getting our asses shot just to come tell you if we weren't serious?" She paused to shake her head. "Listen, there's no way that I'm letting this go without a fight. Claudia...deserves better than a life of servitude as the wife of a guy who probably has scales on his back, and Jessica deserves better than the gallows."

"As a woman who knows the feeling, I cannot condone a woman being pressed into a union or a destiny she doesn't want," Elizabeth agreed. She recalled being briefly engaged James Norrington.

"Especially in a world in which we cannot possess the power to contest," Nicollette rejoined.

Will looked at Nicollette in surprise. "Rather apt of you, Nic. That sounded almost wise."

Nicollette's eyebrow cocked with apparent attitude that was more in line with her character. _"Excusez moi?"_

Elizabeth fought a groan."Will, behave." She paused. "Well, where do we begin? When do we start?"

Will and Nicollette shared a knowing look. Obviously they had a plan—mostly—before coming to advise her. Nicollette grinned. "Out to sea, my friend?"

Will nodded. "Out to sea."

Elizabeth could only watch as Nicollette and Will stood out on the balcony, looking at the dark sea. All she could see was the calm ripple of water. "And what are we to find...out to sea?" Elizabeth asked.

Will turned to her, eyes alight with excitement. "A crew willing to save their captain."

* * *

A several miles off the coast of Port Royal, out of the sight of the Royal Navy, sat the ship the _Bloody Diamond._ The crew of mixed gender were all ensconced in the mess hall below deck. Without their esteemed captain, the mood was grim. At the front of the room stood the captain's first mate Daniella, better known as Danie. Taller than the captain, Danie appeared to be better suited for a life of vanity, but her temper and skill with a bow and arrow made her an important asset to the crew.

The first crew member who spoke was undoubtedly male. "So what we waitin' for, Danie? I say we go get 'em now while we can!"

"We'll lose the advantage come dawn..." The next voice was female, tinged with a bit of nervousness.

Similar sentiments broke out among the other crew members, stoking the fire of Danie's temper. The room jumped in unison when Danie stomped her foot, hard.

"Harken back you fire-toed harpies!" she cried. "If I didn't know any better it'd sound like you were trying to get my sister hung even faster." Everyone went silent, because no one wanted to see to the captain's demise. "We need a plan. And a good one."

The third crew member piped up. "What's to plan? We blow up the fort and free the captain! How hard can that be?"

Incensed, Danie flung a mug with liquid in it in his direction. As the mug hit him midbody, rum splashed onto his face and chest. He wiped his bearded face and stood angrily. "Damn you! That was uncalled for!"

"Like hell that was uncalled for!" Danie countered. "You're lucky I didn't take your head off your shoulders! Have you not heard of finesse? These are bloody soldiers! This isn't like taking down the tavern down the road. This is a fort. A _military_ fort."

A forth crew member spoke up. "Maybe we could sneak in and lead them away..."

That idea filled Danie's naïve blonde cousin with glee. Sometimes Danie wondered why she was on the crew. "Yeah—into a nasty pit of ravenous piranhas!"

Red-faced, Danie shrieked as her temper finally imploded, _"A game of Hide & Go Seek will not work in a military fort!"_

Crew Member Three regarded her insolently. If she wasn't so pissed, she'd almost admire it. "So what will work then? If you think you have a better idea then you best share it then! We've no time to wait!"

The group of crew members became unruly, and Danie could not control them. Frustrated and emotional, Danie stormed out and onto the deck. Tears swam in her eyes but she tried not to shed them. If her sister had been with her, she would have reminded her that tears didn't solve much. Perhaps she was right, but it might have felt better to give in to the urge.

Meanwhile, Will, Elizabeth and Nicollette both in men's clothes to blend in, along with Joshamee Gibbs, Pintel and Ragetti from the _Black Pearl_, boarded the _Diamond_ to meet with Danie. By now, Will and Nicollette had filled Elizabeth in on their intentions.

Gibbs barely stifled a shudder as his boots hit the wood. "Unnatural it is to be on a ship with a woman at the helm. That's terrible bad luck, which is something we be needin' less of in these desperate times."

"Oh come now, Mr. Gibbs!" Elizabeth exclaimed. "Haven't you seen enough to disabuse you of that notion?"

"Ask me that after we save Jack from certain death," Gibbs retorted.

Ragetti piped up, "The women folk aren't so bad. I think they brighten up the place."

Gibbs still would not be persuaded. His eyes were flat with suspicion. "We'll see how bright it is in the depths of Davy Jones' locker."

Nicollette shook her head at him. "Just a bottle of regular old-fashioned sunshine, aren't ya Gibbs?"

Gibbs placed his piercing gaze upon the shorter woman. She didn't look away. "There are rules, Ms. Smith," he explained solemnly. "There are rules out here amongst the sea that govern the very lives we call as our own and they are not meant to be broken. Forgive me if I seem wary of taking chances with mine."

Nicollette merely snorted. "Pirates with principles! Hah!"

As Gibbs and Nicollette continued with their exchange, Will noticed Danie alone and frowned. Elizabeth noticed the change in expression. "What's the matter?" she wanted to know. When he remained silent, she followed his gaze. "Oh, dear. That's decidedly not good."

"Danie?" Will asked, concern tingeing his tone. "Where is your crew?"

The sound of glass breaking followed by cheers punctuated the silence.

Danie's beautiful face was scrunched into a snarl. "Those _miscreants_ that have the nerve to call themselves loyal to our captain are below deck plotting to overthrow me and save Jess on their own."

"They can't do that!" Elizabeth cried. "You're in charge!"

Danie nodded decisively. "Damn right I am! They're so hungry to storm the fort and spill blood they are not listening to reason! I am so furious right now I could...vomit gunfire!"

Will raised his eyebrows. "Well, that's mighty angry."

"Out of that lass, I'd say it's mighty likely given the uproarious and backwards state of things," Gibbs remarked.

Elizabeth winced. "Danie, I think you should take a breath and settle yourself. Jessica would not want you to act with a hot head and put everything in a more precarious position."

Danie looked at Elizabeth as if she'd suggested becoming a nun. "Not act with a hot head? How else do I act?" Danie clenched her first and looked as if she wanted to swing out with it. Nicollette stepped out of the way. "I want to find that frog-faced sister lecher Cutler Beckett and reach my hand down his throat until I've reached his tiny, shriveled man-bits and rip them out of the back of his head—"

Will and Gibbs winced violently. Pintel and Ragetti took two full steps backward. Elizabeth merely gaped. Nicollette swallowed bile at the mental image.

"Yo Danie—cool it with the the visceral threats and descriptions—" Nicollette paused to keep herself from getting sick.

No one uttered anything for a long moment.

"That was a good one, Miss Danie," Gibbs managed."Captain Jay would be proud."

Will agreed, but it sounded like someone had his nether regions in a vise. "Mightily."

Danie hardly noticed their discomfort; she was trapped in the throes of her own discontent. She strode to the rail and pounded her fist on it, once. Her back was to the others. "Damn this bloody mess! What a highly skilled first mate I seem to be. I can't even lead the crew in a maneuver to save my sister's life." She gazed mournfully up into the starry sky. "Jess would know what to do. She always knows what to do."

Nicollette threw hands in the air. Her brightening was so palpable it almost seemed she had a lightbulb over her head. "So that's it then. WWJD!"

Everyone stared at her with varying degrees of doubt and confusion.

Pintel squinted at her thoughtfully. "Is that some sort of high-flautin' code?" He attempted to sound the letters out. _"Wuh-wuh-jid?"_

"And what are you on about now Miss Smith?" Gibbs demanded, impatient.

Nicollette sighed and tried her hardest not to tear her braids out. _"What Would J__**essica**__ Do?"_

_Pause._

"Oh..." the others chorused.

Nicollette smacked her forehead in consternation. "Lord have mercy..."

After a long moment, during which Pintel still attempted to understand what Nicollette meant and Nicollette herself merely shook her head at Ragetti's garbled explanation, Danie's head lifted. The set of her shoulders had changed. Danie turned away from the railing. A brilliant light of triumph had come into her eyes. No one paid any attention to the chaos going on below deck—yet.

"Friends, I think I know how my sister would proceed."


	3. Chapter Three

**Author's Note**  
_This scene came to me because I decided I wanted to tell this a bit differently._  
_And if you don't catch it without me saying, this chapter is the reason why I _  
_wrote this story in the first place. :)_

_I love a nice scrap in the morning, don't you?_

**Disclaimer_  
_**_I don't own the POTC characters. If I did...oh, poor Norrington would be reading me J.D. Robb novels._

* * *

_We like you_  
_This is a game already won_  
_The time has come_  
_Stop trying_

**_—_Sia, "Stop Trying"**

**III**

She did not know how she did it, but when she surfaced from unconsciousness, it was past dawn.

The sounds of outside and the smells of the sea seemed strangely intense but her brain was too foggy to pay the fact any mind. The back of her head ached, and she lifted her arm to rub it absently...only she found that she couldn't.

Panic sliced through her, and she turned and sat up—or tried, as she was lying under wooden beams.

"What in the bloody hell—?" she managed. Before she could even try to free herself, a door creaked open and the clamor of heavy footfalls met her sleep-sensitive ears. She winced at the disturbance. The echoes rolled over her and she pressed her cheek to the cold, stone floor to steady her swimming brain. _You're not a weakling. Up you feckless wench!_

She nearly sighed in relief when the footfalls ceased.

Her relief was short-lived however. "Where are the keys?" demanded a deep, authoritative voice. The sound of it made her want to swear viciously.

Moments later, the cell door opened. Pressure alleviated as the wooden beams were moved to free her and she was nearly able to think around the pain. She tested her mobility by shifting onto her side. While it hurt, the turn was possible. She could feel hands on her forearms as she struggled to sit up.

"Are you lucid? Are you able to speak?" She lifted her head—slowly, nursing the ache—and stared into a pair of intense green eyes.

She recognized them.

She wanted to spit in the face that held them.

"I can speak...but I hardly think you'd...like what I have to say," she retorted. She mustered up as much venom as her could for one word: "Commodore."

James Norrington knew the look of fight in a woman's eyes when saw it. And with this particular woman, he would be surprised if she didn't look ready to start swinging. "Well, it seems that last night's little adventure did little for your attitude," Norrington remarked. "Tell me, Captain Jay, how does it feel to be left behind?"

That comment rendered her sober enough to go paler than she already was. She turned her neck in the direction where Jack Sparrow should have been...but was gone.

The surprise in her eyes had Norrington stifling a wave of pity. It was only when her head dropped and her eyes rolled back into her head that he reached out for her again.

* * *

When she was yanked out of the dark this time, she found herself lying on a chaise. Her joints ached, but this time she could manage the discomfort. The throb at base of her skull abated slightly.

She had her life for the moment, but it was going to be unpleasant.

"It seems our abandoned captain has awoken."

_Him again._ Yes, damned unpleasant.

They were in an office this time—his most likely. From what she had observed about him, he preferred being in control, and where better but your own turf? She spied maps on a table on the opposite side of the room and wondered what had happened. She touched the tender spot on the back of her head. She winced.

"The physician says the blow to the back of your head is not life-threatening," Commodore Norrington told her. She instinctively looked at him. His expression was stony. She guessed he was ready to be rid of her, but the circumstances... She found she could not remember much about the night before after she had dozed off.

"Good thing that is," she retorted. "Don't want to ruin your grand plan to get me on the gallows. The death of the person known as Captain Raul Jay would draw quite the crowd, would it not? And prestige for you, I imagine." She hazarded getting to her feet, thanked her sturdy constitution when she didn't collapse.

"So tell me," Norrington began after a humming moment, "was this a part of your plan? I am deeply curious. Did you plan to sacrifice yourself for Claudia Vargas all along?"

Hearing the name was akin to a live jolt. She tried not to show the worry as it lanced through her. "I do not intend to make my intentions clear so you have a nice little anecdote to share when you brag to posterity about my demise."

"Brag?" Norrington seemed slightly insulted.

She didn't hide the smirk. "Of course. It remains one of the few things you lot dominate over, especially since we know how to stand at the helm of a ship."

"Miss Thomas—" Norrington started.

"Captain," she corrected him firmly.

"Captain Jay," Norrington began acridly, "I do not brag about my life's work. Addressing the latter portion of your statement, women should not be at the helm of a ship."

"Perhaps if they were you'd've found a wife by now," she commented. She nearly grinned when his eyes smoldered with irritation. She murmured, "Ah, right on the mark as usual..."

Watching him fight for stoicism made her aches and pains easier to bear. It had been a low blow, but she couldn't help herself. Besides, the more time he looked at himself, she less he looked at her. Picking apart her motives.

"We have no time for small talk," he finally said. "As you have noticed, we were attacked last night by a band of pirates. Jack Sparrow escaped, and Claudia Vargas is once again missing, along with Elizabeth Swann." He came closer. She could smell his scent, the authority that surrounded him. The woman in her admired his aesthetic qualities; the captain in her barely resisted swiping his sword from him and attempting to escape. "Lord Beckett, Governor Swann, and I debated pursuing your execution." She couldn't hide the flicker in her aqua eyes. It was his time to nearly smile. "However, I believe you will be useful in finding their whereabouts."

He paused a beat, waiting for her to respond. She said nothing. "The _Dauntless_ is being prepared to set sail as we speak."

She blinked at him. "Are you telling me that I am to help you track down Beckett's fiancee and Governor Swann's daughter, and when I do, I return here to the noose?"

A dark eyebrow quirked. "And here I thought you would need pictures to understand."

She let the direct insult pass and instead focused on the indirect one. Part of her relished at the thought of being in her element, on the sea. However, the company left much to be desired. _Look at him. So smug._ If she had anything on her stomach it probably would have ended up on his immaculately polished shoes.

"A question—just one," she said, holding up a finger.

He made a gesture with his hand for her to continue.

"Is this a ruse to make me take my own life?" she asked. "Because the thought of the sight of you for longer than ten minutes tempts me to take a blade to my own throat."

"Go ahead," Norrington shot back. "The world would be better off without you and those like you."

She met his gaze without wavering. "Have a weapon you can spare?"

Norrington glared at her, steeling himself from shaking her. She knew the look. As well as her response if he tried.

"From now until the moment your life ends, you are nothing more than a tool," Norrington advised her. "You are to help me rescue Claudia Vargas and bring her back here." He paused for effect. "If you don't, then you will face execution immediately."

She stared at the motes of dust dancing in the sunlight streaming through the window. He had no idea what he was asking of her, what he was making her do.

He had issued a challenge. She had no choice but to accept it.

"Fine," agreed Jessica Thomas. "You've got an accord, Commodore."

"Splendid," Norrington acknowledged, sounding like he'd agreed to a root canal without anesthesia.


	4. Chapter Four

**Author's Note**  
_You know that feeling of trying something but you are not sure_  
_where it is going to end up? Yeah, I'm right there at the moment_  
_but I like to think this will be interesting._

_And don't fear! Nicollette will pop again some time soon, I_  
_promise. I just have to figure out where exactly I want her.  
Also Jack and Will have not been forgotten either. :)_

_Thanks to all who have followed, reviewed and favorited!_

**Disclaimer**  
_Nope, POTC is not mine. If it had been, do you think I would_  
_have actually let Norrington die? Pshaw!_

* * *

IV

Once she had acquiesced, Norrington spared no time leading her to the ship. Well, after he had clapped her in irons.

"Just as a precaution," he'd explained with something bordering on arrogant smugness. "You understand."

Yes, she understood so expertly that she wanted to bury her knee in his crotch.

What was so alluring about a woman on the loose? Nothing, until the metal clinked on her wrists.

As soon as she stepped out of Norrington's office, she felt it: here existed a new world. Norrington led her out to the docks clad in a discarded midshipman's jacket over her torn breeches and stained shirt. It seemed fitting that he would be dead-set on propriety, even for a so-called pirate.

Her unbound hair, dark with a tinge of auburn, ruffled in the light breeze. She kept pace with Norrington's long-legged strides with little trouble. She ignored the stares but took note that people regarded her with unchecked puzzlement. She was an attractive woman a little past marriageable age walking next to the most eligible bachelor in Port Royal—in chains. Officers of the Royal Navy bustled around them, readying the _Dauntless_ for their voyage. She remembered grimly the first time she'd laid eyes on the ship. It seemed she had been shackled that time as well.

She recognized Cutler Beckett instantly. No one could quite pull off that hat with his panache—if you could call it such. By process of elimination, she guessed the last man was Governor Swann. Swann stared at her with something akin to desperation and hope. Beckett regarded her as if he wanted to pour gravy on her and consume her in bite-sized portions. She hoped she had the opportunity to make him pay for that—among other things.

"So this is Captain Jay," Swann commented. He took her in but she didn't feel devoured afterwards. "I expected—"

"A man?" Jessica offered.

"Fortunately for us in this venture, Captain Jay has many talents," Beckett remarked. Jessica buried the urge to vomit.

Norrington addressed Swann and Beckett. "As we discussed, I explained our objective in terms Ms. Thomas—"

"Captain Jay," Jessica primly corrected.

"Captain Jay," Norrington continued stiffly, "could fully comprehend. She acquiesced to our terms."

"As if I am mute and cannot speak for myself," Jessica muttered bitterly, but no one acknowledged her.

"She has little choice in the matter," Beckett pointed out. "Commodore, I trust you to make arrangements to ensure that Captain Jay returns to Port Royal for her imminent demise."

"Already done, Your Grace," Norrington told him. "I believe we should set sail without any further delay."

With that the three men strode toward the ship. They hardly noticed Jessica hung back, a pensive expression on her face. She came to a decision and spoke firmly and clearly.

"I have a few terms of my own."

The men stopped at the sound of Jessica's voice, whirled around. Norrington looked exasperated. Swann seemed surprised. Beckett appeared bored and ready to return to what he had been doing before.

"May I remind you, Captain Jay, you are a prisoner of the Crown, ergo you have no leverage with which to bargain terms," Norrington stated in that booming, authoritative voice that made her want to kick him below the belt.

"I have free will," Jessica countered. "Of _course_ I have leverage. You gentlemen expected that I, being in an uncompromising position, would merely follow your lead. I am hardly sorry to disabuse you of that notion."

Norrington pressed his lips together. "And your terms?"

Jessica lifted her shackled wrists. "To start, shall we ditch the metal?"

Norrington glowered at her. "They will be a fine accessory for you in your new home in the brig. The metal stays."

Jessica lowered her arms but quirked an eyebrow. "If you believe that I will be incarcerated in a lowly dark corner of your lovely vessel—_again_, then you did not think this through as thoroughly as you had me led to believe." She shifted her gaze to Swann. "Tools are meant to be used aren't they Governor Swann? Otherwise my presence here is superfluous."

Swann stumbled a bit over his response. He had not expected Jessica to appeal to him directly—or to be as articulate as her speech indicated. Not to mention, something about her reminded her of his daughter. "Well...I...I can ascertain from your reputation that you are quite masterful at the helm of a ship, but these are delicate circumstances. Forgive us if we are not completely trusting in your intentions."

"No apology is necessary." Jessica leveled her gaze upon the two other men. "These are my terms. I will move about the _Dauntless_ unshackled. I will be in the permanent presence of Commodore Norrington until we return here and will not suffer any harm from any member aboard that ship unless I give them cause. My input must be seriously considered—or else you might as well end my life at this very moment."

"You'd have no arguments from me," Norrington said.

"Of course not. You don't want to give away how much you enjoy my company," Jessica quipped.

"Captain Jay, Commodore Norrington, that is quite enough," Swann began in the tone fathers used to admonish their children. "You are the captain of this ship, but I mind you remember the life of my daughter."

Something flickered in Norrington's eyes. _Interesting,_ Jessica mused. "Governor Swann, I would never forget Elizabeth." After a humming moment, Norrington turned to Jessica. "I agree to your terms. But I caution you Captain Jay do not abuse your freedom or you will suffer the consequences."

"Yes," Beckett affirmed. "I believe a heavy hand will be a useful tactic against our errant captain." Jessica's eyes narrowed. Clearly he was enjoying this. "Don't be afraid to discipline her if necessary."

"Oh don't worry, dear Beckie—I'll be as good as the gold on His Majesty's crown," Jessica promised, voice dripping with sarcasm. She strode past them and paused before crossing the gangplank. She shifted to look at Norrington. "Permission to come aboard?"

That surprised Norrington fractionally. "Granted."

When Jessica was out of earshot, Becket murmured, "Be on your toes. She could attempt to escape or betray you." "I anticipate I have a better assessment of what makes her function," Norrington informed him. "She is not as cunning as she likes to think she is."

With that, Norrington strode up the gangplank. Swann stood next to Beckett and watched Norrington with a feeling that was some parts hope, some parts grief, and other amusement. He believed in the skill and honor that Norrington possessed, and, while he would be reluctant to admit it, Jessica's manner compelled the germination of something akin to respect in his mind. _Good luck on your voyage_, he thought.

* * *

The collision with the grimy wall jolted her out of unconsciousness. She knew without being told she was on a ship navigating a storm-tossed sea. She rubbed the nape of her sore neck, trying to take in her surroundings.

The ship lurched again, throwing her to the mercy of the opposite wall. This time, she did not hit the wall—but a solid, human form. She stifled a shriek and crawled away, afraid that she had stumbled upon a corpse and she was alone. She soon found her senses when the dark, curly head of hair moved. Moments later, a pale visage appeared. The eyes were red-rimmed and vivid with confusion and pain.

"What...?" The dark-haired woman struggled to sit up. She squinted ahead, looking at the wide-eyed brunette clad in boy's clothes in her midst. "Elizabeth?"

Elizabeth crawled to her again when she faltered. When she spoke, Elizabeth spied blood in her mouth. Elizabeth swallowed her alarm and propped the dark-haired woman up.

"We're aboard a ship, but I do not know where or what ship," Elizabeth informed her. "Where are you hurt?" When silence ensued, Elizabeth added, "Claudia, please speak to me."

Claudia licked her dry lips. "Please stop trying to help me. You...have done enough..."

Guilt lanced through Elizabeth. "My intention was not to cause you harm—"

The ship shifted violently and the two women collided with the opposite wall. Claudia gasped in pain when her body hit the wood. As pain blinded Claudia's gaze and her breathing became shallow, Elizabeth cradled her gently in her arms. She noticed the bruises on Claudia's body, and her brown eyes went wide.

"Claudia—what have they done to you?" Elizabeth demanded.

With a strength that belied her current state, Claudia gripped Elizabeth's hand. "You...can't let me play again. Don't let them make me..."

"Play?" Elizabeth uttered, puzzled. She could not make sense of Claudia's words. "Claudia, what do you mean?"

She did not respond. At that moment, Claudia's eyelids fluttered as she sank back into unconsciousness.

* * *

The singular feeling Jessica felt boarding a ship could be compared to little else. Even though her memories aboard the _Dauntless_ were less than pleasant, Jessica respected her power and agility on the sea. She placed her cuffed hands on the rail—a gesture of respect. "I hope you welcome me aboard," she murmured.

An instant later, she sensed a presence at her back.

"If you are done daydreaming, we need a heading," Norrington prodded.

_A heading? _The thought made Jessica frown. _Where exactly are we going?_ She turned to face him, face marred with bemusement. Her confusion seemed to unnerve him as it had when he had discovered her in her cell hours ago.

"I need to know what happened last night," Jessica told him.

Norrington blinked. "I'm sorry?"

Jessica nearly rolled her eyes in impatience. "Obviously I am still here for a reason. I need to know what happened last night so I can get a clear idea who invaded your town last night and why." She paused. "Otherwise, having me here is pointless."

Norrington could not argue with that logic. Hands clasped behind his back, he joined her at the rail. "The previous evening—"

Jessica cleared her throat pointedly.

It was a wonder he didn't shake her. "Captain Jay, if you interrupt me, I will not get through the tale."

She jingled her cuffs in response.

A humming moment passed. "Lieutenant Gillette!" Norrington called out. "Fetch me the keys if you would?"

A young man in a blue coat and white wig to indicate his rank stepped forward amid the bustle, brandishing the keys. At the quirk of Norrington's brow, he unlocked the irons that clasped Jessica's wrists together. "Should I keep these near in case of...?" Gillette trailed off at Jessica's innocent look. "Insurrection?"

"Stash them in my quarters if you please, Lieutenant."

Gillette blinked in surprise.

"Commodore, I did not realize you were into bondage," Jessica retorted.

"Only for you, Captain," Norrington countered in a tone so dry it would have floated on water. To the nearly gaping Gillette, he said, "Please make sure everything is in place for our voyage. That will be all for now, Lieutenant." Gillette cleared his throat.

"Yes, sir." He stole a glance at Jessica that was fraught with speculation before walking away.

"Your reputation is about to experience a major shift, Commodore," Jessica noted idly. Norrington stared at her with a blank look. Jessica shook her head. "Never mind. Last night?"

"The previous evening," Norrington repeated, "sometime in the early hours of this day to be more precise, we were attacked by a band of pirates..."


End file.
